Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
When Knight left, looking like his pants were too tight, Reese pulled on a dorm style nightgown and flicked on the TV for background noise.
She set the dirty dishes and hot wings scraps out in the hallway for housekeeping and made a surreptitious run down the hall in her nightgown for the Coke machine, on the watch for people.
When a guy in a plaid button-up stepped out of the ice room in front of her, she dredged up a smile and crossed her arms over her bra-less chest.
“Soft drink emergency,” she told him and stepped to the side to let him by.
The guy retrieved his jaw from the floor and nodded, doing an admirable job of keeping his eyes off her breasts.
After inserting a ridiculous amount of money for a can of Coke in the machine, she fast walked back to her room and cracked open the drink, taking a long swig.
She was dry from all that moaning when Knight had been there. Damn, that man knew his way around a clitoris.
Tomorrow night she was going to get to play with his piece.
But first she had to look at all the Delco evidence and strategize her next step. There was story there, and she was going to write it.
Knight was an added benefit, like a side order of fries.
An hour later she had picked her way through most of the documentation, having dropped the pictures onto her laptop from her phone.
The majority of it was documentation showing the high price of a variety of name brand prescription drugs Delco manufactured. Then papers showing the expired patents for generic versions of the drugs. Product plans showing competitive products not being launched.
A clear pattern that Delco, in collusion with two other manufacturers, was entering into agreements to not produce a generic version of their competitor’s primary money-making pharmaceuticals and vice versa, thereby maintaining a high retail price for the brand name drug.
There was a pattern, but not necessarily any hard evidence, until Reese found the typed transcripts of phone and E-mail conversations between the CEO of Delco and that of Stanfield Laboratories, their main competitor. The half dozen transcripts showed clear intent to price-fix.
Hot damn. This was her ticket to freedom.
And there was something else.
The CEO of Delco was none other than Ashton Chatterton, father of the groom. What do you know, she thought. Knight had lied to her, right after she had given him an orgasm.
That took nerve. She felt a little used, completely ignoring the fact that she had lied to him repeatedly about the envelope. That in fact, he still had no idea she had copies of the documents in her possession.
Propped up against three pillows, she called her brother Riley, who was a doctor. “Hey, Riley, I need your brain.”
“Nice to hear from you, Reese. Thank you, I’m fine, how about yourself?”
Rolling her eyes, she said, “I’m in Chicago on business. I don’t have time for chitchat.”
She could hear him shifting the phone away from him and murmuring, “It’s just my sister.”
A catty female voice laced with insecure jealousy said, “Why would your sister be calling you at almost midnight?”
Reese glanced at the clock, surprised. Where had the time gone? Burned up in undulating waves of sexual satisfaction, that’s where.
“If you let me talk to her, I could find out.” Riley gave a sound of annoyance into the phone and said curtly, “What’s up, Reese?”
Distracted from her original purpose, she said, “Who is that, Riley? Ugh. Sounds like you’re going to spend all your time explaining yourself.”
“It’s not that simple.”
She didn’t like that tone he was using, resigned and overwhelmed. It had been about a month since she’d seen Riley, and come to think of it, he’d been a little quiet then. “Why? Did you marry her? Knock her up?”
“Reese. What do you want?”
Fine. She’d call him back when the girlfriend wasn’t around and get him to spill his guts. “I need to know what these drugs are.” She read him the list of four prescription drugs.
“They’re narcotic analgesics, or painkillers, usually given to people after surgery, or to terminal cancer patients.”
“Are there generic versions of these? Are they expensive?”
“Very expensive. They’re third tier drugs, meaning they probably run hundreds of dollars for a prescription before insurance. And the generic form isn’t readily available.”
Because Delco and Stanfield had rigged it that way. This went beyond price-fixing. This was insurance fraud, which explained the FBI’s interest, as well. This kind of price-fixing and suppression of market alternatives would cost Medicare millions of dollars every year.
Reese thought about Knight’s quick acceptance of her invitation to the wedding. He was clearly knee-deep in this case, given he had been sent to retrieve the envelope left by an insider at Delco. Did he plan on making a move on Chatterton at the wedding?
If he did, she was going to witness it, stuck to his thigh like a toddler to her mother. Not that it would be a sacrifice to cling to Knight all night.
“Why do you need to know about painkillers?”
“I’m chasing a story.”
“Of course.” Riley sounded amused.
Urgent whispering came from the woman. Not happy whispering.
Reese wondered what exactly she had interrupted, then stopped her thoughts from driving down that dark alley.
She didn’t need to know about her brother’s sex life.
“Sorry I called so late, I didn’t know what time it was.
I’ll let you get back to your girlfriend. ”
“Thanks.”
Reese said good-bye and hung up her cell phone, tossing it onto the nightstand.
Suddenly her bed felt large, cold, and empty, scattered with papers and generic white hotel pillows.
The floral bedspread had her pinned beneath it, not an ounce of softness in its durable threads.
She tugged on the rubber looking blanket, the color of orange juice in concentrate form.
It was lonely and lacking a certain rigid male presence that had sprawled across the bed and her earlier. The memory had her yanking down the bottom of her nightshirt in restless anticipation.
Her panties were pulled too tight, nudging into her folds, the satin hot as she shuffled on the bed, crossing and uncrossing her legs.
Her breasts were tender, her nipples beading as they brushed against the soft cotton, forcing her to press her hand against them to stop the fabric from shifting in torturous waves.
Grabbing the remote, she turned up the volume and grimaced at a talk show. She hit the button to change the channel and loud panting filled the room. A couple writhed on a bed, interlaced with one another, naked limbs sliding and melding as they sprawled across a bed.
Reese flipped the TV off and prepared to while away the night in sexual frustration.
On the plane earlier in the evening, sex had been the last thing on her mind. Now she could think of nothing else but bare sweaty flesh slapping together in mutual pleasure.
She turned on her stomach and recoiled instantly. God, that was ten times worse.
How could Knight have left her like this? He was probably fine, not suffering in the least, having compartmentalized his sexual needs. On and off like a faucet.
Not on the verge of sliding his fingers down to appease himself the way she was.
Just fine.
The sexy jerk.